


Revolution Runs in the Family

by oceansgrey



Series: Kisame Week 2019 [4]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Kisame Week 2019, M/M, New Seven Ninja Swordsmen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceansgrey/pseuds/oceansgrey
Summary: Kisame and Itachi wake up to find out their sharklet and his band of friends tried assassinating a Kage and overthrowing the village.Itachi regrets letting Sasuke babysit Shizuma when he was younger.





	Revolution Runs in the Family

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write a dad fic for Kisame and Itachi for ages and the "Baby Shark" prompt finally let me get something out lol.  
Shizuma's not a baby shark in this, since he's his canon age during the school trip arc in Boruto, but he'll always be Itachi and Kisame's baby shark.

No matter how often it occurred, Kisame would never get used to Kiri ANBU knocking on his front door.

“What now?” Itachi said, lifting his head up from Kisame’s shoulder. “He better be in his room by the time I get up,”

“We both know that’s not happening,” Kisame sighed. The knocking on their front door grew persistent, forcing Kisame out of the warmth of his bed to go see what they had to say.

Walking past the door to Shizuma’s room, Kisame hesitated before putting his hand on the knob. He hated invading his son’s privacy, but there was nothing to hide if one was not there. Even in the dark, he could tell the bed was empty, not that Shizuma slept there often. He moved out a year ago once he officially ranked as a jonin, living with a few of his friends closer to the center of the village. Shizuma only slept over when he was feeling homesick, which hadn’t happened in a while.

The knocking grew louder, and a gruff voice threatened to break down the door.

Kisame frowned, shutting the door before heading to the front door. He opened the door, the faces hidden behind masks definitely giving the former missing nin a scowl.

“What did he do this time?” Kisame asked. He could hear Itachi’s steady footsteps come down the hallway behind him. He rubbed his eyes, already feeling the headache start.

The two Mist ANBU parted, Chojuro standing behind them.

“What didn’t he do?” Chojuro said, looking exhausted. Kisame gave him a once-over, noting his heavily bandaged shoulder. “Your son stole the legendary swords _and_ tried to start a coup!”

“I knew we shouldn’t have let Sasuke babysit him when he was little,” Itachi mumbled behind Kisame, his husband having to cover his mouth to stifle his sudden urge to laugh. “It runs in the family, I suppose,”

Chojuro let out a sigh, waving at the two.

“They’re in a holding cell at the station,” he said, the tired Mizukage slumping his shoulders. “We need you to sign forms,”

Kisame sighed, Itachi moving behind him to grab their cloaks.

He wasn’t expecting to be woken up in the middle of the night, but then again, his son never was predictable.

Eighteen years before, upon the official disbanding of the Akatsuki, Kisame had never expected to be able to go back to his village and actually live a peaceful life. With Itachi at his side, he reluctantly relinquished his title as a missing nin.

The hardest part of accepting Mei’s terms was him having to hand over Samehada and officially retire as a shinobi, but he had expected it. He had killed the daimyo and was known as an international terrorist for years, and it made sense that the Mist would want to strip him of any opportunity for those events to happen again.

With Shizuma, he ended up putting all his time and focus into raising him. Besides, it wasn’t as if he didn’t still fight, just as long as the Mist didn’t know. Being a former missing nin and also being the husband of one of the last Uchihas brought a lot of attention that often turned into bounty hunters trying to collect some sort of infamy for bringing in two of the Akatsuki.

Kisame remembered the first time he held Shizuma, his son so small and every bit of perfect. It had been a life changing moment, a memory he would never forget. Raising their little sharklet would have run him absolutely mad if it wasn’t for Itachi, his partner in everything. As an infant, Shizuma had cried for hours during his teething phase, growing the same sharp teeth Kisame had. When he learned how to walk, taking shaky steps to Itachi, he had immediately took off running into a wall. Shizuma had an abundance of energy as a child, and while Kisame could keep up, Itachi helped steady them both. Sometimes, when he was feeling sentimental, Kisame would flip through the old baby book they had sitting on the bookshelf full of Itachi’s books. His absolute favorite picture of their baby was one they kept framed in their bedroom. Naruto had taken it, forcing Sasuke into the picture. Itachi had his arm wrapped around Sasuke, the other around Kisame while he held a then three year old Shizuma. They were all smiling for once, Itachi smiling the most, and it had been taken during a visit to Konoha so Sasuke could spend some time with his nephew. It was a little blurry, since it was Naruto taking the picture, but it was his favorite because of that.

Parenting had been tough as former missing nin, but Itachi and Kisame agreed to tell Shizuma the truth of their past, and they had been nothing but accepting of his choice to enroll in the academy and take the path of a shinobi. Between the two of them teaching him, Shizuma was the best swordsman of his graduating class and the best at detecting genjutsu, possibly one of the very best in the village.

Part of Kisame was incredibly grateful that Shizuma didn’t inherit the Sharingan. He had seen Itachi’s vision deteriorate until he had the transplant done with Sasuke, and he didn’t want to see his son go through that. Also, he knew his son better than anyone, and Shizuma would constantly have it activated to scare people for fun.

Kisame was pulled from his thoughts by Itachi slipping his hand into his, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Kisame pulled him close, pressing a small kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah, let’s go,”

Walking into the police station gave Kisame fond memories of getting arrested for street fights when he was a teenager, and then later arrested for fighting in a bar with the Swordsmen. The station still looked the same, the only real change in the technology that was rapidly changing in the shinobi world.

Chojuro gave a wave to the officers as they passed, putting on a fake smile. They took a turn into the hallway leading to the holding cells, void of prying ears.

“Are you going to revoke his jonin status?” Itachi asked, watching Chojuro startle. The Mizukage was still the nervous kid Kisame had started training to be a Swordsman all those years ago, despite the fact that Chojuro was the face of the village.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Chojuro said, pushing the door open. “They’re in here,”

No parent ever wants to see their child behind bars, but seeing Shizuma’s bruised face, how tired he looked as his friends all slumped up against him made Itachi’s chest ache.

Shizuma looked up and locked eyes with Kisame, frowning at the disappointed look on his father’s face.

“Sorry,” he said, looking over to Itachi. Itachi looked at his son’s friends, all in various states of exhaustion. Kyoho looked two seconds from falling asleep. Hebiichigo was curled up, leaning onto Buntan as she sniffled, mascara streaked down her face leaving tear trails. Buntan looked like she had been electrocuted, ash on her face and burns on her arms and face from a possible fire jutsu. Ichirota looked the best out of them all, a bruise blooming on his jaw from where an ANBU had punched him to arrest him. Hassaku was still trembling from leftover adrenaline, looking incredibly guilty.

Kagura was sitting at the table in the corner, Mei patting his back. He looked scared, anxiety written all over him.

“What did you do?” Kisame asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Tried to start a revolution..." Shizuma mumbled.

"Why?"

“I did it because I’m mad!” Shizuma said loudly, startling Hebiichigo enough that a new wave of tears came at his increased volume.

“Because of a monument?” Chojuro asked, shaking his head. “That doesn’t give you the right to try to assassinate me to bring back the Bloody Mist,”

“You tried to do _what_?” Kisame asked. Chojuro had conveniently left that little tidbit of information out.

“Shizuma, we talked about this with your uncle,” Itachi chided. “We said no revolution against corrupt governments unless it's absolutely necessary or done peacefully,”

“The Mist is a lot less corrupt than it was when we were young, Kisame,” Mei chimed in.

Shizuma pouted, and Kisame remembered all the times he had pouted like that when he was little, always winning Itachi over enough that Kisame would walk into the kitchen to find his husband and son eating sweets right before dinner, both caught red handed.

“If it’s a memorial stone to the village, and the Swordsmen, then why are our family names missing?” Shizuma asked. “Why is there no recognition for our family, Dad? Or any of the Swordsmen and shinobi who defected? Why erase the history of the Bloody Mist when it was so important to get to where we are now?”

“That doesn’t mean guilting someone into stealing the swords and trying to assassinate a Kage,” Kagura spoke up, still trembling.

“Regardless,” Chojuro covered his face in his hands, deeply sighing. “I think…we should send them to the rehabilitation center, and-”

“If you put my son and his friends in an actual prison, them trying to assassinate you will become the least of your problems,” Kisame threatened.

Chojuro pondered on it, looking at his former fellow Swordsman.

“I suggest…” Mei said, standing up and coming over to Chojuro’s side. “That we simply report it as children fighting, and the Mizukage had to intervene to prevent the children from getting too violent. A slap on the wrist, really, but I know you two will give them enough hell for tonight,”

Chojuro groaned, remembering what had occurred with Boruto earlier that day.

“A scuffle among kids,” Chojuro repeated. “But I want them on a probation period,”

“I can accept that,” Itachi said, looking up at Kisame. “Can we take them home?”

“Let me get an officer to get their paperwork,” Mei said, smiling fondly at them before heading back.

Shizuma let out a sigh of relief, pressing his back into the cool stone wall.

He was safer in the cell than he would be when he got home, already mentally preparing for the verbal lashing he was going to get.

It was a long, quiet walk back to their house, Itachi parting from Kisame to go visit the hotel to check up on Sarada and hopefully send a message to Sakura and Sasuke before they got word of what happened from Suigetsu.

Once Kisame crossed the threshold of their home, ushering in the six, he shut the door and locked it tight behind him, just wanting to go to bed and hopefully get rid of the throbbing headache he had from sitting with officers and having to sign and vouch for each of the kids.

Wordlessly, he went into the kitchen and started making tea. He heard them wander about throughout the house, the shower run, doors shutting and opening. Just peeking out the window in the kitchen, he saw the sun begin to rise. Kisame was thankful that he and Itachi didn’t have any plans for the day, and they could sleep.

He was getting too old for this, even though he had just turned fifty one.

By the time the kids had all shuffled back into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in pajamas, Kisame had finished making breakfast. The silence was getting to him, sitting down at the head of the table as he watched all of them pick at their food, Shizuma scowling down at his untouched cup of tea as if it had insulted him.

“You all have to eat something,” he said, taking a bite of his fish. “I can tell you all took a real beating, and your body needs it to help you all recover,”

He watched as they finally began to eat, Kyoho the first and eager to inhale his food as Hassaku ate quickly. Hebiichigo had finally stopped crying, face bare of makeup to reveal the puffy bags under her eyes. Buntan was free from ash, her wounds clean. Ichirota sipped at his tea, taking in the morning.

The door clicked shut, indicating Itachi was home. He looked tired, passing through the kitchen to give Kisame a quick peck on the forehead before heading off towards their bedroom, too tired to try to stay awake.

It was silent for a few minutes before Buntan broke the silence.

“Thank you,” she said, voice soft enough he barely missed it.

Kisame was met with a chorus of “thank you” mumbled by the exhausted teens, with the exception of Shizuma.

“Don’t thank me,” Kisame said. “You’re lucky to get off this easy. If I pulled any of this while in the Swordsmen, I would have been killed,”

“But you’re not a Swordsman anymore because of this village-” Shizuma finally said.

“I came back to this village voluntarily,” Kisame interrupted. “Because your father and I wanted a safe place to raise you,”

Shizuma slumped in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

“Did you all really think you could kill Chojuro?” Kisame asked. “Give me an honest answer,”

“No,” Kyoho said, shaking his head.

Hebiichigo looked ready to burst into tears again, shoulders shaking.

“We didn’t think much past destroying the memorial stone because _someone_ wanted to focus on getting matching jackets,” Ichirota said, side eyeing Shizuma.

“You got your asses kicked,” Kisame said, standing to grab the finished dishes. “I think that’s all the scolding you need,”

“But Dad-”

“Shizuma,” Kisame said, wanting to side with his son so badly but also understanding the importance of the situation. “When your father wakes up, he’ll have a lot to say to you about this, but I’m not one for elaborate speeches. We raised you to not make the same mistakes we did, the mistakes your uncle made. Does it hurt me to know that the Hoshigaki name isn’t on the memorial stone when Yagura ordered our clan to be killed in the purges? Of course it does. Does it pain me not to see the Onomichi, the Fuefuki, the Oniyuzu? The Momochi name, the Kurosuki name left off because the village doesn’t want to remember the defectors? Of course. But the past is the past, and you can’t change it,”

Shizuma frowned.

“You killed a daimyo. Papa killed his clan,”

“You are not us, you are you,” Kisame said. “Konoha forced your father to kill his family, and I killed the daimyo because I wanted to escape from Yagura, but that doesn’t mean you should start planning to kill a Kage during times of peace because you’re mad about a monument not having our family name on it,”

Shizuma leaned forward, resting his head on his arms.

“Come on, let’s get you kids cleaned up,” Kisame said, rummaging through a cupboard for one of their spare medical kits. “You’re lucky your aunt hooked us up with these,”

From years in the Akatsuki and not having access to medical help, Kisame had picked up a bit of first aid. He focused on Buntan first, trying not to notice how badly she flinched as he placed burn salve on her scalded cheek, pressing a bandage to it. Hebiichigo, while having only been knocked out by Chojuro, took the calming aid he handed her. Most of their wounds were just heavy bruising, knowing the colors would fade in a few days.

Shizuma was last as Kisame stitched up a nasty cut on his arm.

“Samehada’s a real beast, isn’t she,” Kisame said, more to fill the silence between him and his son. “You take after your father in chakra reserves, so she probably didn’t like it when you tried to use her,”

“Yeah,” Shizuma mumbled, watching as his dad finished closing the wound. “Does it always hurt? When you try fusing with it?”

“No,” Kisame shook his head. “Samehada and I made a pretty good team,”

“Do you miss having your sword?”

“I do, but giving it up meant protecting you,” Kisame said, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “I don’t need a legendary blade when I have parental instinct,”

Shizuma rolled his eyes, and Kisame hugged his son tightly.

“Too tight, Dad,” Shizuma patted his back. “I’m not going anywhere,”

“You almost did,” Kisame held him a bit tighter. “Don’t do that again,”

“Alright, alright,”

Kisame let go of Shizuma, leaning back to look at his son’s face. So much of his face looked like his, the pad of Kisame's thumb resting right below one of Shizuma's facial gills, but his face shape, hair and eyes were definitely Itachi’s. He was glad he had someone that was the perfect blend of him and his husband, and despite all the trouble Shizuma got in, he wouldn’t trade him for the world.

“Get some sleep, kids,” Kisame said, getting up. “Itachi’s going to be mad once he wakes up, so prepare yourselves for an hour long scolding on how going against the government is not a good idea. After that, I’ll start training you all so that someday, once you show Chojuro you’re capable of it, they _might_ reinstate the Swordsmen,”

The look on the kids’ faces was enough to make him smile, all of them filing out of the kitchen and towards the bedrooms. He watched as Kyoho and Hassaku took one spare bedroom, Hebiichigo and Buntan leaning on one another as they trudged to the guest bedroom closest to the front of the house. Ichirota went to Shizuma’s room, pulling out the spare futon where he usually slept whenever they all slept over.

Kisame was about to go into his bedroom, Itachi’s quiet snores coming from their bed when Shizuma stopped him.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, looking down at his feet. “I bet you and Papa hate me right now,”

“Shizuma, we could never hate you,” Kisame said. “We love you, and that’s why we’re upset with you. You and your friends could have been killed. I know you weren’t alive during the Bloody Mist, but I was. Traitors were hung outside the village gates and Yagura put heads on pikes in order to show everyone what happened to those who questioned his authority. Itachi had chakra seals on his eyes to prevent him from using the Sharingan when we were in Konoha for his treatment because he was deemed an enemy. We don’t want any of that happening to you,”

Shizuma sniffled, throwing his arms around Kisame and hugging him tight.

“I’m sorry, Dad,”

“You should be sorry,”

Kisame turned his head to see Itachi, half awake in the doorway of their bedroom.

“I already talked to them,” Kisame said, watching Itachi move closer.

Instead of chiding their son for his behavior like they both expected, Itachi came over and wrapped his arms around Shizuma’s shoulders, pressing his cheek against his.

“You’re our baby. We love you,” he said. “We’ll always love you, no matter what you decide to do in life, because you’re our son and we’ll love you regardless.”

Shizuma nodded, squeezing his fathers close in their embrace.

“Now, go to bed,” Itachi said, letting go of his two Hoshigakis. “We’ll have a family meeting later with everyone,”

“Night, Dad. Night, Papa,” Shizuma said, going into his room and leaving the door open so they could see him climb into bed, drawing the blankets up over his shoulders.

“We made a pretty okay kid,” Kisame joked, following Itachi as his husband peered into each room. Hebiichigo was curled up on one bed, Buntan sprawled out in the other. In the other room, Kyoho was fast asleep, snoring loudly while Hassaku slept curled up with his pillow. From Shizuma’s room, they could hear Ichirota and Shizuma talking in hushed voices, mumbling a “goodnight” before silence filling the air.

“He takes after you,” Itachi said, heading back to bed.

“This little revolution thing is a strictly Uchiha trait and you know it,” Kisame said, pulling back the covers to nestle into bed beside his husband. “Should we ask Sasuke to come over and give him a talk?”

Itachi shook his head, lying his head on Kisame’s chest.

“No. Sarada was pretty upset,” he said, feeling Kisame wrap an arm around him. “She fought well, but she injured Buntan, and we’re lucky she didn’t get hurt or else Sakura would be here to kill all three of us,”

Kisame let out a low laugh, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

“I love you,”

Itachi leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you, too,”

Kisame closed his eyes, letting himself relax in the warmth of his bed with the comfort of knowing that his husband and kids were safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea that Kisame accidentally becomes a father figure to the New Seven Swordsmen, because they deserve a dad(dy) shark (do do do do do do) (sorry, I had to do it).  
Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think! :)


End file.
